


Conspiracy Theory

by pantswarrior



Category: Eroica Yori Ai o Komete | From Eroica with Love
Genre: Accidents, Guns, Humor, Imagination, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-10-02
Updated: 2012-10-02
Packaged: 2017-11-15 11:16:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/526701
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pantswarrior/pseuds/pantswarrior
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Dorian's clumsiness with firearms leads to a little accident - and the Alphabets don't have a clue what they should be doing about it.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Conspiracy Theory

Dorian had a feeling that the charade was not working anymore - if in fact it ever had - but he didn't care. Particularly not at the moment, when he had his sexy Major up against the wall in his own office, panting with arousal and anticipation.  
  
"Mmmmm," he murmured, running his fingers up beneath the Major's shirt. "And just think - we haven't even gotten to the 'debriefing' yet."  
  
"Pervert." Klaus had given him an appropriately (and excitingly) dangerous glower earlier, when the Major had grudgingly agreed to fill Dorian in on the details of the mission he had 'accidentally' stumbled into the middle of... and Dorian had suggested a better term as they headed for the office. Mostly for show, as the entire alphabet was in attendance outside, but Klaus still didn't seem comfortable with some kinds of jokes. He probably never would be, but that was all right.  
  
There was little room for jokes now anyway. Dorian would much rather finish the job he'd only just begun. The jacket had come off, and the tie; the shirttails had been tugged up and out of the trousers. Now, Dorian's nimble fingers were doing away with those pesky buttons that held the shirt closed. Then, to get the shirt off the Major's shoulders...  
  
...Which wasn't going to work so well, considering what else Klaus had been wearing under the jacket. "Is the mission really that dangerous, darling?" Dorian inquired, sliding his fingers up the Major's sides underneath the straps of the shoulder harness.  
  
"Yes. I was going to tell you about it, remember?"  
  
"I'm determined not to remember anything until we're through here," Dorian told him with a smirk, leaning closer and nuzzling at his neck while he got to work. Let's see... there was a buckle - the right one to take that harness off him? Oh, and another one there, on the other side. Not that he didn't think Klaus looked rather sexy wearing a shoulder harness, but he wanted Klaus wearing _nothing_.  
  
Klaus groaned, but tried to protest. "You don't have to-"  
  
"Stop wiggling," Dorian scolded him, and licked along the underside of his jaw. "...Well, on second thought, don't."  
  
"Dorian, just let me take it-"  
  
"I can get it," Dorian insisted, tugging at the straps. That had to be what would get it off, right? And so it was - once the buckles had been undone, the harness fell right off.  
  
Unfortunately, this was immediately followed by a deafening bang, as one of the guns fired upon hitting the floor.  
  
Dorian, having leapt away in alarm, looked down shakily at the weapon, the tiny puff of smoke, and the bullet lodged in the desk. "...Well. I didn't know those toys of yours could kill the _mood_ as well."  
  
"Ssss _sshit!_ " Klaus started the word intending it as an exclamation, but managed to keep it to a hiss. "You fucking klutz! Get your clothes back on," he demanded in a furious whisper, rebuttoning his shirt frantically. "A gun going off inside a NATO building - my men are going to be beating down the door in a few seconds."  
  
"I imagine so," Dorian whispered back, grabbing for the shirt he'd removed earlier and tugging it over his head. "So sorry - you know I didn't do that one on purpose."  
  
"No, you did it because you're a fucking klutz!" Klaus tried to smooth down his shirt, now that it was back in place (except for the part where it was a bit lopsided where he'd skipped a button in haste), and tucked it in, his eyes darting to the door intermittently. Seeing that no one was knocking yet, he reached for his tie and hurriedly put that back on as well. No one had knocked yet, and so he tried for the jacket, too.  
  
The shirt was rebuttoned, the tie was tied, and the jacket was back on (fortunately covering up the sloppy buttoning of the shirt)... and no one was pounding on the door.  
  
The fact that this was strange was not lost on Dorian. "...I may not be current on NATO policies and so on," he began, puzzled, as he brushed his fingers through his hair, trying to bring it into some semblance of order. "But... normally if a gun goes off inside one of your offices, and there are twenty-six agents just outside, shouldn't there be some sort of reaction?"  
  
Klaus just stared at the closed door, every bit as puzzled. "They'll be here any second."  
  
They waited. Several seconds ticked by. There was no sound at all from outside the door, and Klaus frowned. Dorian was relieved that for once it was a frown of confusion, rather than the frown that indicated he was about to fly into a rage. "...Perhaps we should take this opportunity to pick up the gun, and those papers we knocked off the desk?" he suggested.  
  
Klaus nodded, and reached for the holster, setting it on the desk, as Dorian gathered the papers.  
  
By the time they'd put the desk back in order, glancing anxiously at the door the entire time, there was still no response.  
  
Klaus scowled. Dorian folded his arms across his chest, leaning against the desk. "...So now what?" he asked.  
  
* * * * *  
  
As determined as the alphabets were to ignore any and all sounds that they might hear from within the Major's office, the sound of a _gunshot_ was something else entirely.  
  
After the initial frozen moment of shock and disbelief, A was the first to leap to his feet, leading what would have been a stampede as the alphabets dashed for the closed door - if B hadn't grabbed hold of A's arm. "No, wait! You know what was going to be going on in there - if we barge in, and they're like _that_..." That was enough to halt the stampede before it had truly started.  
  
" _That_ ," A argued, "does not usually involve gunshots. Obviously something's gone wrong in there!"  
  
"Maybe not," G put forth nervously.  
  
"What?"  
  
Everyone turned to look at G, who was ruining his perfectly manicured nails by biting them in terror. "...Haven't you ever heard of snuff?"  
  
After a moment of collective exasperation, everyone's attention turned back to the door. "Anyway, something's obviously gone wrong," A repeated, pretending there hadn't been an interruption. "And considering that the Major isn't shouting about whatever happened in there, we _have_ to assume that he's in trouble."  
  
"I don't know..." F said slowly, thoughtfully. "G might be on to something."  
  
The half of the alphabet that was not staring at the door gave him a look. "Not the snuff part! What I mean is, we don't _really_ know for sure that the Major and Eroica were... doing _that_. What if Eroica tried something, and the Major shot him?"  
  
"He wouldn't," Z protested. "As much as he may threaten, he wouldn't!"  
  
A gulped, remembering a television in a hotel in Rome. "...He might."  
  
Everyone was silent now, weighing this possibility. "It might explain why he isn't shouting now," B thought out loud.  
  
"I wonder if he's stunned and horrified at what he's done," J said, "or... sitting there smiling in satisfaction."  
  
"Either way," A told them, determined, "we have to go look. A gun was fired inside the Major's office!"  
  
"And if he really killed Eroica in a fit of insane rage," F spoke up again, "wouldn't he shoot any witnesses, too? Even if he's gone mad, the Major wouldn't be so sloppy as to not clean up after himself."  
  
"This is ridiculous," Z told them again, though the worry in his eyes showed that he was beginning to entertain the idea. "You're talking as if the Major is a murderer."  
  
"Well, what are the other possibilities besides the Major having shot Eroica?" said T, trying to be rational. "Either the Major fired the gun, or Eroica did... or someone else is in the room with them who fired a gun."  
  
"The Earl didn't fire the gun," G spoke up, sounding authoritative. "He's _terrible_ with firearms. He wouldn't be carrying one, and the Major would never let him touch _his_ gun." A few nervous chuckles from the others caused him to blush, realizing what he'd said. "...I'm serious!"  
  
"Eroica's good with knives, though," D said thoughtfully. "And knives are silent. So if Eroica was going to kill the Major-"  
  
"He wouldn't!" G interrupted. "Besides, we're talking about a gunshot!"  
  
"So it was either the Major or a third party inside the room," A summarized. "And the odds of it being a third party are extremely low. Even if someone managed to get in unseen, any half-competent organization wouldn't carry out an execution or assassination in the middle of enemy territory like our headquarters. Not to mention, only one shot was fired. If a third party had shot or killed either the Major or Eroica, the other would be calling for backup."  
  
"Could one shot have killed both of them?" T asked.  
  
"Very unlikely."  
  
"This reminds me of JFK..." B mused, earning himself several glares. "...Hey - it was informative."  
  
"So it had to be the Major that fired the gun," T stated. "And the only people to be shot in there were himself and Eroica. And Eroica's not calling for help..."  
  
"Even if for some reason the Major would commit suicide in front of him," Z said, looking more and more troubled, "Lord Gloria would have immediately gone for help."  
  
"So the Major must have shot him," F concluded, wide-eyed.  
  
"Unless it was a murder-suicide," B suggested.  
  
Everyone looked at him skeptically. "There was only one shot fired," A reminded him.  
  
"The Major could kill two people with one shot," B said defensively. "He's much better than Oswald."  
  
"Would you shut up about JFK?!" A's nerves were rapidly wearing thin. "Look - there was a gun fired within a NATO building. No matter who fired it or why, it has to be investigated."  
  
"Go right ahead," B invited him.  
  
A turned to face the door on the far side of the room - and didn't take a single step towards it. B waited. "...Well?"  
  
A frowned. Fortunately, he was saved from having to think of an excuse by the faint sound of the door's lock unlatching.  
  
The alphabets watched intently as the knob turned and the door opened just a crack. After a hesitation, it opened just a little wider. Major Eberbach's head - perfectly intact - peeked out, warily looking one way and then the other.  
  
When his eyes fell on his agents, all gathered together to stare at him, half-cowering, the wary look turned to a far more typical rage. "What the hell are you idiots doing? Didn't you hear the gunshot?"  
  
"Er. Yes, sir," A replied sheepishly - since no one else seemed willing to speak.  
  
"Then what are you all doing standing around?" the Major bellowed. "When there's a gun fired inside this building - inside _my office_ \- you should react! You should investigate! Someone could have been hurt or killed, and all of you so-called professional agents are just standing there like you're watching a fucking television program!"  
  
"Sorry, sir..."  
  
"Your incompetence continues to amaze me," the Major growled. "Amaze me any more, and you'll all be getting one-way tickets to Alaska."  
  
"So, uh... since you're out here," B began, nervous but curious, "what was that gunshot?"  
  
" _Nothing at all!_ " the Major snapped - and ducked back inside his office, slamming the door.  
  
The alphabets looked at each other. "...He _seems_ normal," B commented.  
  
"But what about Eroica?" J asked, still dubious. "The Major's fine, but we'd already decided that he probably was. Eroica, though..."  
  
This line of questioning was interrupted by the door to the Major's office flying open - and the thief in question practically falling out of the doorway. It looked as though he'd been shoved, and the door closed behind him with another slam before he'd managed to catch himself.  
  
"Lord Gloria!" G exclaimed, going to his side. He was quickly joined by A and Z. "What happened? Are you all right?"  
  
"Fine," the Earl muttered, pushing his way past to head for the exit. Though physically unharmed, his expression looked quite sulky. "Please just don't ask."  
  
They stared after him for a moment, wondering. Then B spoke up. "...You know, we still don't know what that gunshot was. And the Major _did_ say that it should be investigated."  
  
"If you'd like to," A said with a meaningful look at the closed door, "you may."  
  
B looked at the door as well and gulped. "No thanks."


End file.
